Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Mirror Platform was situated halfway up Mount Taixu, where the mountain ridge was abruptly cut off, forming a wide expanse rumored to be an immortal's meditation platform.

Above the Mirror Platform, six small, crescent-shaped floating islands served as viewing perches for the sect leader and the five elders. Each island was furnished with seats and small tables laden with tea and snacks.

Once the elders were seated, a layer of mist would envelop the floating islands, obscuring them from the sight of lower-level disciples. This meant that even if the elders were to scratch their feet while observing, those below would remain none the wiser.

Rong Yu sat on his own floating island, chin resting on his hand. The azure jade circlet on his brow caught the sunlight, gleaming with a soft, pleasing warmth.

Having completed his tasks, he idly cast a glance at the dense throng of disciples below.

The disciples awaiting the competition were uniformly clad in the sect’s dark green robes, their cuffs trimmed with dark red—a vast, fashion-forward wave of red and green washing over the Mirror Platform square.

Rong Yu took one look, then quickly averted his gaze, rolling his eyes as if fearing he might go blind.

*What* an aesthetic black hole!

Truth be told, even when reading the novel, he had found the sect’s color scheme utterly baffling. It was said to be the favorite combination of the Taixu Sword Sect’s founding patriarch, a source of immense pride and a signature emblem for the disciples.

Consequently, Rong Yu had more than once raged in the comment section: "Author, did you feed your sense of aesthetics to the dogs?!"

Fortunately, Rong Yu’s character never wore the sect’s uniform, always appearing in distinctive black attire.

As this thought crossed his mind, the red-and-green-clad disciples below suddenly stirred. Rong Yu looked down to see the sect leader arriving.

The sect leader entered slowly from the main gate, parting the crowd like Moses dividing the Red Sea. Indeed, he was precisely as described in the book—a true gentleman of jade-like refinement. His jade crown meticulously bound his long hair, and even the red-and-green robes seemed to exude an air of unyielding dignity on him.

However, the sect leader’s expression held a subtle hint of unease, as if something was not quite right. Others might not have noticed, but Rong Yu, observing him closely, discerned it at once.

A faint smile touched Rong Yu’s lips. It seemed his plan had succeeded.

The sect leader strode to the center of the Mirror Platform and announced in a clear, resonant voice, “The hour has arrived. The results of the outer sect disciple competition are in. Please prepare yourselves. Once the top three have passed through the Dragon Gate, you may ascend the platform according to your drawn order.”

His voice, though not loud, was imbued with spiritual energy, instantly echoing across the entire Mirror Platform. All the inner sect disciples applauded and cleared a path from the entrance.

Rong Yu gazed toward the Mirror Platform’s grand gate, recalling the book’s description. The gate, intricately constructed like a ceremonial archway, was known as the “Dragon Gate.” Only outer sect disciples who placed in the top three of the Sect Tournament could enter it and proceed to compete in the inner sect matches.

The inner sect was a crucial dividing line—merely joining the sect was no great feat, but entering the inner sect truly signified one as a gifted immortal disciple.

The Dragon Gate was a special threshold for those dark horse outer sect disciples who rose to prominence.

Amidst the eager anticipation, the first person finally emerged through the Dragon Gate. As he slowly revealed himself, a wave of cheers erupted from the crowd on the Mirror Platform.

Rong Yu slowly straightened his posture—it was Jiang Ziliu.

Jiang Ziliu ascended the final step, nodding and smiling confidently at the crowd, his self-assured demeanor suggesting the world lay at his command.

To be fair, Jiang Ziliu was quite handsome. His refined face always wore a smile, his sharp eyebrows and bright eyes gleaming with intelligence. Yet, perhaps due to Rong Yu’s inherent dislike for him, all he perceived in that face was greed, darkness, and self-importance.

Moreover, the moment he saw that face, he could only recall how, in the original story, this person had ascended by trampling on Lu Shitu, paving his own path to immortality with the other’s blood and tears.

It was absurd. While other readers happily devoured the wish-fulfillment narrative, Rong Yu couldn’t help but repeatedly grit his teeth in frustration at the protagonist, his heart aching for the doomed cannon fodder.

But no matter what… Rong Yu glared at Jiang Ziliu, seething inwardly: *Jiang Ziliu, with me here, don’t even think about it. I’ll let you see that path right before you, yet never allow you to set foot on it!*

The disciples below grew excited at the sight of Jiang Ziliu, the female disciples particularly effusive.

“It’s Junior Brother Jiang!”

“Junior Brother Jiang is here!”

“What? The Jiang Ziliu who was injured by that criminal Lu Shitu?”

“You didn’t know? Didn’t you hear about his breakthrough yesterday? During his recovery, he improved incredibly fast—not only did he undergo marrow cleansing, upgrading from a Four Spiritual Roots to a Three Spiritual Roots, but he also reached Foundation Establishment yesterday! And he’s only been here two years, even though he’s fifteen!”

“Reaching Foundation Establishment in just two years?? And he was just a Four Spiritual Roots waste… an ordinary person? How did he do it?”

“Are you stupid? Even with just Four Spiritual Roots, he managed to get the materials for a Fire Attribute Marrow Cleansing Pill—have you ever even seen one in your life! How impressive! No wonder he passed the Dragon Gate…”

Jiang Ziliu walked through the grand, exquisite Dragon Gate, listening to the murmurs with a smile still on his face, though inwardly he was overjoyed.

He recalled how, before today’s Sect Tournament, the senior disciples who had once bullied and mocked him had all come bearing elixirs and spiritual herbs, hoping he would pass the Dragon Gate and later elevate them.

After all, having become a Three Spiritual Roots cultivator with successful Foundation Establishment, he was now a standout among the outer sect disciples, no longer the useless, older good-for-nothing he once was.

Jiang Ziliu basked in the admiring gazes of the crowd, feeling like a plant soaking up sunlight, every cell in his body relaxed and ecstatic, as if floating on clouds.

What pleased him even more was that everything he had gained today was entirely the result of Lu Shitu’s efforts, while he himself had expended no effort at all.

Just thinking about how much Lu Shitu had sacrificed for his glory today filled him with indescribable satisfaction.

One particularly rare ingredient in the Fire Attribute Marrow Cleansing Pill was the Spirit Fire Grass, used to preserve and consolidate the fire spiritual root. Thanks to this miraculous herb, Jiang Ziliu’s originally four equally thick spiritual roots had not only reduced to three but also made his fire spiritual root significantly thicker, now dominant, boosting his talent a hundredfold and allowing him to reach Foundation Establishment so smoothly.

Finding this Spirit Fire Grass required extreme patience and superhuman control of spiritual energy. The grass grew only in the wild, indistinguishable from the most common weeds, and could only be detected by the faint heat sensed through spiritual energy.

Moreover, the Spirit Fire Grass was extremely delicate—the spiritual energy used to probe it must be as fine as a thread; even a slight excess would render it useless. It was also nearly impossible to preserve, making it unsellable; those who needed it had to find it fresh.

The Spirit Fire Grass in the pill Jiang Ziliu consumed had been gathered by Lu Shitu over three months of sleepless, relentless searching across ten mountain peaks. At the time, Lu Shitu had just been released from the sect dungeon, not even tending to his injuries, all to restore his spiritual roots and participate in today’s Sect Tournament.

Yet, in the end, it had ended up in his own stomach.

Jiang Ziliu’s grin widened at the thought, feeling utterly on cloud nine.

Never in his life had he felt such exhilaration as he did today. And this was only the beginning. He had always known he was Heaven’s Chosen One, destined to effortlessly climb step by step to the pinnacle of the cultivation world!

As the chosen one, he knew that the three elders taking on disciples today would all compete to take him as their student, and he would need to choose among them.

Jiang Ziliu pondered seriously, appraising these masters like produce at a market. Although Taiqing Elder was the world’s top swordsman, the sect leader controlled all the sect’s resources, and becoming his direct disciple could eventually lead to inheriting the leadership.

Jiang Ziliu glanced up at the spot where Taiqing Elder should be seated and shook his head regretfully. *What a pity, Taiqing Elder—I’ll have to decline your offer…*

He was certain that even if rejected, Taiqing Elder wouldn’t give up, not only refusing to take other disciples but also repeatedly trying to win him over with various rare resources, effectively becoming a de facto master. Thus, there was no loss in choosing the sect leader as his master.

Pity for those eagerly hoping to become Taiqing Elder’s disciples—their wishes would go unfulfilled.

Just then, a commotion broke out behind him.

“Stop! Hey, stop!”

“Lu Shitu? Why is he here?”

“What’s he doing? Does he think he can join the Sect Tournament? Wishful thinking!”

Jiang Ziliu’s eyes turned cold, even as a smile spread across his face.

He slowly turned to look down the mountain steps.

Not far away, Lu Shitu, shoved by someone, stumbled and fell on the steps, struggling to get up. He looked around dazedly, covered in filth, his robes bearing footprints, a half-healed scar on his temple slowly bleeding—clearly, he had endured more abuse on his way up.

This was the once flawless noble scion, the headmaster's favored disciple, the immortal cultivation genius untainted by worldly dust—an existence forever held in awe.

Jiang Ziliu’s heart swelled with vicious delight; no combination of life's pleasures could match this exhilaration.

He looked down at Lu Shitu struggling to push himself up, then slowly extended a foot.

He would kick this person, whom he once could only look up to, into an abyss from which there would be no escape!

In the next instant, a sudden gust of wind from nowhere sent him stumbling backward, and he landed hard on the ground. A figure clad in black swiftly swept past him, positioning himself in front of Lu Shitu.

Rain suddenly poured down. The disciples on the Mirror Platform broke into confused murmurs before being shielded beneath a barrier erected by the sect leader.

But Lu Shitu remained exposed to the downpour, instantly drenched from head to toe.

He didn’t know why he had come here.

Before this, no matter how much he suffered, it was as if he couldn’t feel it—a steadfast corner of his heart had sheltered him from the storms, a guiding beacon on his path.

But today, that corner had crumbled, and with it, his entire world. All the pain that had been held back now pierced him like sword blades.

His pursuits, his goals, everything he had fought for—it all seemed like a mockery.

This place, once just a waypoint on his inevitable path—the sect leader had told him it would be where he first shone brightly.

Now, he didn’t even have the right to be here…

Lu Shitu trembled as he slowly lifted his head, but instead of the Mirror Platform, he saw someone walking toward him.

This divine figure stepped out of the protective barrier, standing with him in the rain. Dressed in distinctive black robes, jet-black hair flowing against snow-white skin, eyes shaped like peach blossoms, misted over, a jade circlet glowing faintly at his brow—yet his movements were resolute.

Dark clouds plunged the world into gloom. But this person seemed to carry a faint light, standing out vividly against the bleak surroundings.

He reached out a hand toward Lu Shitu.